Supernatural - Family Ties
by JennaCarlsonWrites
Summary: Picking up after season 9 (don't read if you don't want spoilers), Sam and Castiel team up to resolve a Winchester family secret that could help them save Dean and reunite with a long lost family member. *Continuous work. Check back weekly for other episodes*
1. Chapter 1

Supernatural

"Family Ties"

After casting his summoning spell, Sam waited for Crowley with a righteous fury. The bond between the brothers kept him fighting. He never forgot about the promise they once made to each other if one of them died. He would fight for Dean if it killed him as well. Crowley's absence only frustrated Sam more. His would make him pay for his lateness. As he stood up to leave, he heard a shuffle of clothing in the back of the room.

"You rang, Moose?"

"Bring him back, Crowley. I offer my soul up for his."

"You two are relentlessly in love with each other." He took a few steps closer to Sam. "I'm so tired of you Winchesters. I'm not a genie in a bottle; here to do your every command. Did you forget I'm the King of Hell? I do I want…not what you want."

"You owe us, Crowley."

"I owe you? Moose, have you forgotten that I don't have honor. It's a weakness. No. No deal."

"Why not? You've never turned down an offer for one of us before," Sam spit back at him. Anger danced around his eyes. The need to murder Crowley seemed more and more like a good idea despite what he could do about Dean. Crowley's rebellious smile made his stomach churn, and his thick British accent made him to crawl up the wall.

"I don't need you anymore, Sam. I got what I needed. Deal with it," and he vanished.

"Crowley!" Sam screamed.

What was he going to do now? Castiel wasn't answering prayers or giving any kind of notion he was still alive. For the first time in his life, Sam felt alone. More alone than the year after Dean went to hell. He still had Bobby then, but Bobby was gone, too. Everybody was gone. Dean, Dad, Cas, Bobby. They were all dead. Sam fell to his knees and wept. It was the only thing he could do.

Sam couldn't let Dean's body continue to lie in the bed rotting. It was time to nut up and get on with it. He would bury him outside of the bunker, then leave. He never felt like this place was home, no matter how much Dean tried to push it on him. He would just get in the Impala and go. Maybe destiny would find him for once.

He stood outside of Dean's room, terrified to go in. The sight of his dead brother in the ultimate weakened state – death – was too hard to accept. Seeing him would finalize everything. He took a deep breath and turned the knob. The door creaked, and the sound echoed throughout the bunker, only reminding him more of how alone he was.

The bed lay empty. Dean's body was gone. Out of instinct, he called out, "Dean? Dean!" No response came. The body's absence made Sam second guess himself. Had he left it in here? In his grief, had he put him somewhere else?

"Dean?" he whispered.

This was it. His mind was now gone, and he began wondering if he dreamt the whole thing. Was he in the middle of a waking nightmare? He walked over to the bed and plopped down. The springs in the mattress screamed as they succumbed to his weight. He dropped his face down into his open palms and yelled. He didn't know whether to be angry, sad, or relieved.

A sound in the corner made his head rise in alert. It was Castiel.

"Cas. Where have you been? Dean's –"

"I know, Sam. I'm sorry. I came as soon as I heard. Where is he?"

Sam sighed heavily. What was he supposed to tell Cas? That he'd lost Dean, that he'd lost a dead body?

"I don't know, Cas. He was lying right here, and now he's gone."

Castiel stared blankly at him…as he usually did. At least they hadn't changed. Castiel's dumbfounded face.

"Has anyone else been here since you?" Castiel asked.

"No, it's just been me." Sam paused. "Wait. I summoned Crowley to make him bring Dean back. It took him a long time to appear. You don't think…?"

"He must have taken Dean's body," Castiel resigned.

"But why? He was dead!"

Sam's distaste for Crowley now reached a new level. He wanted to rip his entrails from his body and shove them down his throat. He wanted to make Crowley suffer for everything he'd done to Dean and him.

Castiel sat down on the bed next to Sam and awkwardly placed his hand on Sam's shoulder.

"I don't know, Sam, but we'll find him. I promise."

"What about Metatron?"

"He's finished. Imprisoned forever in heaven. We'll never have to deal with him again. I hope, anyway."

Sam turned and looked solemnly at Castiel. He was glad his friend was here, but Cas was no replacement for Dean.

"What am I going to do, Cas? He's gone. Probably for good. I have nobody now." Sensing he might have hurt Castiel's feelings, he quickly interjected, "No offense, Cas. I meant blood family. They're all gone now."

Castiel cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. Sam sensed he was uncomfortable about something.

"Not exactly, Sam."

"Cas, I know you're slow sometimes, but not this slow. Dad's dead. Mom's dead. And now Dean's dead. There is nobody else."

Forgetting about his half-brother, he spoke again, "Oh, and Adam…well, I never knew Adam, but he's in Hell with Lucifer."

Castiel sighed and rubbed his face.

"That's not what I mean, Sam. There's something I never told you and Dean. I found out a few years ago when I was interrogating a demon. I wasn't sure if he was just lying to distract me from the matter at hand, but I managed to verify it to be completely true."

Sam looked at him quizzically. He was completely lost and couldn't figure out where Castiel was going with this.

"What? What do you mean, Cas?"

Castiel fidgeted on the bed. It was obvious to Sam that Castiel didn't want to tell him.

"Dean isn't your only sibling. You have another, and not a half sibling. John and Mary had three kids."

Sam guffawed at Castiel. He was speechless and couldn't believe it. Castiel wouldn't lie about this information, but he couldn't believe his father and Dean would lie to him.

"Cas, that's impossible. Dean would've told me. Hell, Dad would've told me. That's not a secret you keep."

"He didn't tell you about Adam, did he? Dean didn't know either. Apparently, your parents kept a lot from you boys."

Sam couldn't argue that point. His father led a secret life from him and Dean. This news shouldn't have surprised him. At first, he couldn't respond to Castiel. Now he had something else to be angry about. He was so sick of all the Winchester secrets and lies. The curse befell every Winchester generation since his grandparents.

"Cas, do you realize what you're saying? My father lied to Dean and me about having another sibling. Why would he keep this from us?"

Castiel ran his fingers through his short hair. He looked rough to Sam. Eventually, he would get around to asking what happened with Metatron, but he wanted, needed to know about this missing family member. Dean's disappearance was only a background thought at the moment.

"I don't have all of the details, Sam, but your parents didn't tell you and Dean because the other child was special. That's why the demons are after her."

"Her? You mean I have a sister?"

"Yes. In fact, she's Dean's twin sister."

Sam shot Castiel a shocked look. A sister? Dean's twin? The room began to spin, and he felt dizzy. This day was just too heavy. One thing after another. Sam wasn't sure he could take anymore. His breaking point was fast approaching.

"But…where is she? Why don't we know about her?"

"Sam, I know this is hard. This has been a god awful day. Maybe you should lie down and get some rest. Grieve a little. Drink. I don't know what you humans do to blow off steam."

"Cas, you can't drop this bomb on me expect me not to ask questions," Sam's voice almost squeaked. He was running on adrenaline now.

"All I've been able to find out is the demons are after her because she has a special power. I can only assume John and Mary hid her from you to protect her. I don't know what power she possesses, but they've been after her a long time. Azazel went after her originally, but settled for you after he couldn't find her. Azazel knew you had no clue of her existence so that's why he never brought it up."

Castiel placed his hand on Sam's shoulder again, trying to console him. Sam's brain was running in hundreds of directions. It was too hard to focus on one thought.

"I suspect her power was like yours. Being able to cast out demons without incantations. She's a healer as well. And Sam, I think she might even be able to help Dean."

Sam snapped back to reality with the mention of Dean's name. Help him? How?

"So she's like you, too?"

"Yes, to an extent. But listen, Sam. It's going to be very hard to find her. She's warded. No one has seen her in twelve years, but the demons felt they were on her trail."

"We gotta find her, Cas. We have to."

Castiel nodded reluctantly. He didn't seem to share the same enthusiasm has Sam.

"What's the matter, Cas? What else are you not telling me?"

Castiel hesitated. He opened his mouth to speak but shut it instead. Sam could see the gears turning in his head as he tried to formulate a response to his question. What else was he going to drop on him today?

"Sam, like I said. No one has seen her in years. I can't even tell you for sure that's she's alive. I don't even know where to start."

"I don't care, Cas. This is all I have left. The only hope of recovering my family and bringing about destruction to Crowley's reign. I'm going to kill him."

"I know, Sam. I know. I didn't say I wouldn't help you, but this is going to be a hard journey. Heaven is trying to rebuild after Metatron's rule. They want me to lead them still."

Sam clapped his hands to his thighs, "So, where do we start?"


	2. Chapter 2

Supernatural

"Family Ties – Chapter 2"

Sam stared at the computer screen taking in the horror that befell him. Hundreds had been massacred in a small town forty five miles from where he sat. As they lay in their beds, death visited them one by one in horrifying fashion. Each had been stabbed violently and left to bleed to death. Sam had not seen this kind of evil in a long time. He began to attribute it to a band of leftover Metatron supporters exacting revenge for their captured leader.

Castiel was finishing his task of scouring the earth for the rest of the fallen angels. Heaven was still in chaos with no leader. They all wanted him to lead, but Castiel was reluctant, fearing the result of too much power. He had not forgotten the last time he was empowered. Many angels met their demise. As Castiel was searching, he also did reconnaissance on the whereabouts of Sam and Dean's twin sister. The demon airwaves were pretty silent with not much to offer.

Sam grew impatient more and more each day. The idea of having another family member alive kept him up at night, thinking about all the birthdays and family reunions he had missed. He was angry at his father for keeping this secret from him and Dean. They had a right to know. She had a right to know if she didn't know already. Then another thought hit him; what if she did know and decided not to reach out. It was hard to fathom but not impossible. He wondered what she looked like, how she acted, what she liked and disliked. Did she have Dean's broody attitude with his lust for classic rock and muscle cars? Did she have the soft side that he had, the intelligence, the need for more knowledge. Was she, too, a hunter? The questions kept raging in his head. He took a sip of the last beer and shut his laptop.

It had been four weeks since Dean's death, and Castiel kept regular contact every few days with Sam, but he couldn't shake the loneliness. When Dean was in Pergatory, the loneliness had not been this bad, but he still had Bobby then. He could hear Bobby's voice echo in his head with the incessant grumblings, idgit name calling, and sarcastic comments. Sam smiled when a particular memory of Bobby and Dean arguing over muscle cars crept in.

"I miss you, you old crabby bastard," and took another sip of his beer.

He packed up the laptop, shut the lights off, and headed out to the Impala. He sat in the front seat and took in the smell of the leather, the way it sounded when he shifted in it, and just tried to focus on the task at hand. Grieving for his father hadn't been this hard. He cranked the engine, and it roared in exultation. At least he still had the car to remember Dean by.

Castiel suddenly appeared in the passenger seat, startling Sam.

"Geez, Cas. You scared the crap out of me. You gotta quit doing that."

Cas looked at him unamused, "I assume you would have gotten used to that by now, Sam."

"Yeah, afraid not, man. Whatcha got? Anything new?" Sam tried to mask his melancholy.

"Afraid not, Sam. The demons are either keeping it pretty hush-hush or they don't know anything. I have not exhausted my efforts though. I would suggest reaching out to the hunter community to see if maybe your father once confided in any of them regarding her whereabouts."

"I dunno, Cas. If he couldn't even tell his own family, why would he tell a bunch of strangers?"

"There's freedom in telling strangers or acquaintances secrets without the possibility of judgment, Sam. That was a huge burden for him to carry."

Sam hadn't thought of it that way. He guessed ignorance was truly bliss. The less you knew, the safer you would be. He reconsidered his frustration and anger toward his father. It was time to let it go.

"I guess you're right. I've been wondering what she's like; if she's anything like Dean."

Castiel was an angel of few words and little obvious humor, but with his time spent on earth during the period which he had no grace, he'd learned a little about being human.

"Let's hope she's nothing like Dean. I've gotten my fill of references to pie or quippy pop culture comments."

Sam couldn't help but laugh. He could imagine Dean sitting there listening in and having a snarky response

"I miss him, Cas. This has been the hardest month of my life."

Castiel sat in silence for a few moments, and Sam began to wonder if he was paying attention.

"I miss him, too, Sam. Even though he was rough around the edges, he was still a passionate man, hell-bent on doing the right thing."

Wanting a break from the monotony of wallowing in self-pity, Sam changed the subject.

"So what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Cas?" he grinned sarcastically.

Castiel was still staring out of the passenger window, intently thinking of somewhere or something else.

"Cas?" Sam asked."

"Oh, sorry. I came to ask if you'd heard about the massacre in Armstrong, Iowa?"

Sam was a taken aback. What were the odds he would come talk to him about this very event?

"Yeah, in fact, I was on my way there to check it out. Want to come with?"

"Yes, I do, actually. The event itself is a tragedy, but something isn't setting right with me. I haven't seen this kind of bloodshed in a while. It has demon written all over it."

Sam agreed silently. He hadn't wanted to take on any hunting trips since Dean's death, but to ignore this one would almost be inhumane. Sam put the car in gear and drove west toward Armstrong. When they arrived, media vans, police, and government officials crowded every street corner. It was a circus, and Sam knew he would eventually have to pull out the old FBI suit to get some answers.

"For old time's sake, want to do the FBI partner thing with me? I got a great set of names done up recently. Agents Lee and Neil?"

Castiel stared blankly back at Sam.

"Oh come on, Cas. Tommy Lee and Vince Neil…you know, from Motley Crue."

"Sounds like two names we probably shouldn't use if they're from a motley crew," Castiel replied, deadpan in typical Castiel fashion.

"Agents Lee and Neil it is," Sam chuckled triumphantly.

He pulled into a parking space and put the car in park. Glancing around the crowd, he noticed a few areas cordoned off by police tape with little human presence.

"Let's try there first. Doesn't seem to be a lot of people hanging around so we'll have little resistance getting in. Of course, I don't see us getting hassled too much by the local fuzz. They've got too much on their hands right now. This place is a madhouse," Sam pointed to an apartment building one block down from them.

As they walked up to the front door, a deputy stood outside guarding the entrance. Sam and Castiel flipped their badges open so he could see.

"FBI. I'm Agent Lee. This is Agent Neil. What happened here?" Sam inquired.

The officer looked warily at Sam, and his face was stricken with despondency. Sam figured this officer had seen things that should only be in horror movies and nightmares.

"Pure hell, man. Some psycho went through about forty homes this weekend and slayed hundreds of people. This little town has never seen the likes of this."

The officer appeared he was going to break down any moment. Exhaustion was written all over his face. Sam guessed many sleepless nights were in store for the officer. He, too, had once had those dreams, shortly after seeing some of the stuff Dean dragged him into for the first time.

The officer continued with his story, "The bodies, they were…practically gutted. Whoever did this was filled with pure hatred."

Sam spoke up, hoping to lighten the situation, "Did anyone find the murder weapon? Was the same weapon used for all the murders?"

The officer shook his head, "No, we didn't find it, but yes, some kind of knife or blade was used on all of the victims. Roughly an eight inch blade with a serrated edge, but –" the officer hesitated, carefully articulating the words in his head, "the blade was not a regular knife, not cleanly carved out. The cuts were very jagged and wide. It's hard to make out what kind of weapon it was…maybe some of kind of makeshift shiv. It's just horrible what he did to those people."

The deputy trailed off into thoughts and conversations inside his own head. Noticing he wasn't going to get much else out of him, Sam thanked him and asked to go inside. As he and Castiel crossed the threshold, splatters of blood on the walls were the first things they noticed. The murderer had slung the blood when ejecting the knife from his victim. A large pool of blood lie in the middle of the living room next to the couch. Sam knelt down to get a better look at the surroundings. The couch was shifted out of its original position, indicating there may have been a struggle. Blood was smeared down one of the cushions indicating the victim was initially stabbed while sitting or lying on the couch, then eventually ended up in the floor where they ultimately died.

Sam looked up at Castiel, who was pacing the room, "Cas, you getting anything?"

"This was bad, Sam. The world hasn't seen this type of evil in a couple hundred years."

"So you know what did this?" Sam asked.

"No, not exactly. I can't pinpoint it, but I can sense so much anger and hatred. And this was done to almost two hundred people in two days. They must've moved with a wicked speed, which screams demon to me. That, and there weren't any witnesses to intruders."

Castiel's face was pale. His posture was rigid as he walked, and Sam had never seen his friend like this.

"You ok, Cas?"

"No, Sam. I'm worried. I don't think the two of us alone can handle this. We're going to need help."

"Well, who do you have in mind? The angels? Because I'm not sure I trust any of them at this point. No offense."

"Your concerns are completely warranted, Sam. I don't disagree with you, but we may not have a choice in the matter."

"Well, maybe we can find a few demons to shake up to get more info to see what we're dealing with. That is, if this was really a demon's work," Sam said.

"Oh, it's definitely the work of a demon. The smell of sulfur is so strong that it would probably make my human-self vomit."

Sam didn't want to say what he was thinking. He didn't want to take that route again. Besides, there was no guarantee it would work. He hadn't seen or heard from Crowley since Dean's death. It was all quiet on the demon home front…which made Sam uneasy. He wondered if it was the silence before the break of a storm.

"What about –"

"Don't say Crowley, Sam. You know what that could mean by summoning him. He wouldn't help out of the kindness of his heart. There's always a deal at play," Castiel interrupted.

"I know, Cas, but he owes me. He owes Dean, for what he got him into. The Mark of Cain, the First Blade. He has to get Dean out of this situation he put him in. Look, I'm not saying we have to be all buddy-buddy with him. Trust me, I want to kill him as much as the next angel, but if anybody knew what was going on here, it would definitely be him."

"Sam, that's asking for trouble. A trouble we can't afford to get into. Now that he has his kingdom back, there's no telling what army he might have amassed. Heaven is weak and disoriented. It would be perfect timing for him to make a move."

Sam sighed. He didn't know what to do, and calling on Crowley seemed to be their only option. Meg was dead, so there was no point to call upon her. Ruby was long gone. Crowley was their only demonic connection, but Castiel was right. Crowley would demand something in return if wanted to do anything at all…and Sam had nothing to offer.

"We just have to try. Demons are few and far between these days, Cas. Capturing one that will talk is hard enough. Crowley's our only shot."

"I can't stand by and let you do that, Sam. It's too dangerous. You know of all people that Crowley cannot be trusted."

"We can always trap him again, like at the bunker. Just place devil's traps everywhere, then summon him into one." Sam was pleading. He wouldn't deny that he was desperate.

Castiel appeared to wrestle with the idea. Sam could tell that he was agitated by being put in a corner. They didn't have a choice.

Before Castiel could reply, Sam spoke, "We'll do it tonight after sunset. After we find a place and put down traps. We can do this, Cas. It really is our only option. I get it. I don't like it either."

Castiel relented and sighed. He was done talking and vanished before Sam's eyes. Sam knew there was point in calling him back, but now he wondered if he was going to do this alone.

Sam managed to find an abandoned house on the outskirts of town. He stopped at a hardware store beforehand and purchased a basket load of red spray paint. He took every precaution he could think of, and he wouldn't rest until he had an answer from Crowley.

A sigil was drawn on the floor with a piece of chalk, and three candles lay at centered points around a bowl. Sam put the summoning ingredients in and stopped. He started to second guess his decision. His relationship with Crowley was different now. Dean was no longer around so he had no leverage over Sam with him. Honestly, he had no leverage over him at all. Sam no longer cared what happened to his life. He was alone now…but as this thought occurred to him, he remembered his sister. He still had to find her. Then a second thought crossed his mind. What if Crowley knew something about her? Could he get that out of him, too? Then again, he could be placing her in harm's way if Crowley didn't know about her. The war in Sam's mind wreaked havoc on his nerves.

"Stop it," he yelled at himself. "He already knows about her, otherwise the demons wouldn't be looking for her at all."

He did find it odd that Crowley hadn't dangled that tidbit in front of them at some point. Crowley thrived off of manipulation, and that would've been a doozy.

He placed a knife over his forearm and proceeded to cut himself for the blood offering. The blood slowly dripped into the bowl, and the smell of iron hit him in the face. Thoughts of his past of when he once consumed blood crept up into his mind. Where had that come from? He hadn't thought of that in years. He shook his head and concentrated on the incantation now that he was ready.

"_Et ad congregandum...eos coram me."_

He lit a match and dropped it into the bowl. The contents blossomed into a smooth amber glow. He stood up, ready for whatever responded.

After a few moments, Crowley popped into the room with a quiet flutter.

"Moose. What do I owe this pleasure? I thought you were sore at me."

"Cut the crap, Crowley. You owe me answers."

"I owe _you_ answers? Now what makes you think I owe you anything? The King of Hell owes no one," Crowley grinned.

"Yeah, you owe me. You got Dean into that Mark of Cain and First Blade crap, and now he's dead. So yeah, you owe me some retribution. What's going on in this town? Is one of your cronies loose?"

Crowley paced slowly back and forth across the floor when he looked down and noticed the Devil's Trap he was standing in.

"Clever as always, huh, Moose?" he pointed at the trap. "Do you ever tire of these tricks? They're starting to get old."

"Enough, Crowley. Answer my question. Did a demon do this? And who?"

Crowley chuffed. He held his hand up to his face, eyeing his finely manicured nails. He turned his hand over and wiggled his fingers.

"Oh Moose. I grow weary of getting my hands dirty. I recently discovered manicures. Lovely things. Who knew we were missing out? Anyway, since I don't like to get my hands dirty anymore, I just let my protégé handle everything now. He seems to get his jollies from his handiwork, so I just let him do what he wants."

"Protégé? Who are you talking about, Crowley?

Crowley stopped pacing and stared directly at Sam. The edges of his smile seemed to touch ear to ear. Sam knew he was cooking something in that sadistic head of his.

"Why don't you ask him yourself?"

Sam heard two footsteps close behind him. Anticipating a blow, he swung around with his arms raised, ready for a fight.

Sam's stomach nearly jumped up into his throat. He squinted, thinking maybe his eyes were playing tricks on him. Dean stood in the doorway, with the First Blade in hand and eyes black as midnight.


	3. Chapter 3

Supernatural

"Family Ties"

Chapter 3

Sam struggled to formulate words. He opened his mouth, but all that came out was silence. An wide smile curved across Dean's face. His teeth shown bright like the Cheshire Cat.

"Sammy," he spoke.

"Dean. You're alive? But you're a…demon?"

"In the flesh and blood," he wiped imaginary dust from his shoulder, as if proud of what he'd become.

"But I don't understand," Sam choked, and he took a step toward Dean.

Dean quickly raised the First Blade and pointed it directly at Sam's chest.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. See, Sam, I'm not that guy anymore. I'm this one." He pointed to his own chest with the First Blade. "I became what was inside me. The true me. Now I get to do all that stuff you held me back from doing. It feels glorious. I learned to embrace all that anger and hatred, and I made it thrive. All those tasty souls I took from this town have only made me hungrier."

Sam's chest tightened with grief. His brother stood before him, aiming a weapon at him, and all Sam could do was stare at him. The floor felt as if it were slowing cementing over his feet, to encase him where he stood.

Crowley's footsteps echoed across the walls as he paced inside the Devil's Trap. "Oh Moose, cat got your tongue? This is the new and improved Dean Winchester. You can address him as the Prince of Hell if you'd like."

Sam refused to acknowledge Crowley and stared intently at Dean. Muscles in his throat relaxed, and the words bubbled up.

"Dean. Why? How could you do this? This isn't you."

Anger swam around in Sam's head. He wasn't even sure who he was angry at, but he wanted to rip the roof off of the house. Finding his footing again, he took another step toward Dean, hands raised in a non-threatening manner.

Dean laughed and shook his head, "You're just like me; stubborn and bullheaded. It's not so bad, Sammy. I've never felt more alive. In fact, I don't even know why I fought it this long. I can help you, you know. Become this. Remember all that blood you devoured? It's ten times better like this. Let me help you," Dean beckoned him closer with his free hand.

In the corner of Sam's eye, he saw Castiel appear next to him. Dean's stare shot in his direction.

"Castiel. You're not looking too good nowadays," Dean smiled. "That grace of yours is looking pretty bleak."

Ignoring Dean, Castiel placed his hand on Sam's shoulder, "Sam, we can't do this here. Not now."

Dean stepped forward and swung the blade at Sam, but Castiel and Sam popped out of existence.

Before Sam could react to Dean's attack, he discovered he was outside of the house standing next to the Impala. Castiel stood next to him, pale white in the face.

"Cas, it was Dean. He's alive."

"That's not alive, Sam. He's something far worse than death now. Come on, we have to get going. We're not strong enough to take them on by ourselves."

"But, Cas –" Sam tried to interject.

"No, Sam. Do not argue with me. Do you want to end up like him?" Castiel yelled.

Sam had never seen Castiel act like this. For the most part, Castiel was void of most emotions. He stared, pleadingly, at Sam. Without another word, Sam got into the Impala, and they drove back to the Men of Letter's bunker.

The car ride back was silent. Castiel stared out his window in deep thought. Sam had never seen him this worried, this distressed. The world was about to get a dose of evil far worse than anything it'd ever seen before. If Dean managed to wipe out hundreds of people in just 2 days, he didn't want to imagine the carnage after a month, a year, a decade. Even worse, he had no idea how to stop Dean. All Sam could feel was helplessness.

When they got back to the bunker, they both sat solemnly at the table in the research room. Sam didn't know what to say, and figured it was best to wait on Castiel to speak. He could tell Castiel was in deep thought, going over ideas and scenarios. The silence was choking Sam. He couldn't take it anymore.

"Cas, why didn't you react when you saw Dean? It's almost like you already knew."

After what seemed like an eternity, Castiel spoke, "When you were setting up that house to summon Crowley, I went back to heaven to see if anything was running across angel airwaves about what happened in Armstrong. Come to find out, some angels captured a demon that was all too happy to talk. He was blabbering about a new guy in hell. Somebody Crowley was referring to as his protégé, the new prince of hell. He talked about how he had a blade made of teeth and bone, and he didn't have to say the guy's name. I knew it was Dean."

"But I don't understand, Cas. How's Dean a demon now?" Sam was extremely frustrated. He was tired of not having answers and falling into more black holes.

"I think it has something to do with the Mark of Cain. If you die with it, you become a demon, succumbing to all that murderous rage. Crowley must've have known. I believe he came here and gave Dean the First Blade. Sam, this is bad. I don't want to believe it, but I don't think Dean can be killed. He's stronger than a Knight of Hell. Can only be killed with the First Blade…which would mean he would have to kill himself since the blade only works with the Mark of Cain." Castiel leaned back in his chair, looking defeated.

"Cas, there has to be something. We didn't go through all of that crap with Metatron to get to something worse. Did the demon tell you anything else?"

"Yes. He told me they might have found your sister."

"What? Where?" Sam pleaded, hope swelling in his chest.

"Three hours from here in Wichita. That was the last place she was seen, but they think she's still there. If that's true, Sam, she's in trouble."

Sam shot up from his chair, "Well, let's go. Longer we wait, the less of a chance of us finding her before they do."

"Hold on, Sam." Castiel raised his hand to stop him. "We don't know anything about her. We don't know what she looks like, what her name is, or even whereabout in Wichita. It's not exactly a small town."

Sam grabbed his bag that sat at the other end of the table. He furiously packed it with provisions as Castiel kept talking.

"We'll have to draw her out, but she'll more vulnerable then."

"How do we do that?" Sam asked.

"We need to keep our eyes and ears open about anything strange going on. Listen in for miraculous healings or maybe resurrections. She's proven that she likes to help people, so we need to create a situation to draw her out."

Sam finished packing and threw the bag over his shoulder, "What did you have in mind?"

"We need to kill you," Castiel said nonchalantly.

"Come again?" Sam said bewilderedly.

"Sam, she likes to help people. What better person to help than her own flesh and blood. We narrow down her position and place a scenario in front of her that she can't resist."

"Ok," Sam hesitated, thinking hard about how to facilitate the craziness going on his head, "but what if she doesn't resurrect me. What if she doesn't even show up?"

"Then I'll heal you," Cas said flatly.

"Cas, it's no secret your grace is drying up. How do you know you won't fail?"

"I have enough left, but this may be a one-time deal, Sam. We have to be sure she'll see you. Get in contact with some local hunters there to see if they've heard anything strange going on. We need ears to the ground."

Sam wasn't too fond of this plan, sacrificing his own life for a hunch…a maybe. They had no other choices.

"You're sure this is the only way, Cas? I don't particularly like the thought of being bait. Maybe we can reach out to her, ask around?"

"Can't take that chance. We'll spook her. Remember, Sam, this girl has made a living at running. She's a ghost. She disappears in the shadows and blends in. It's obvious that she knows she's being hunted, so she won't make herself vulnerable just because we asked nicely."

He had a point. Sam had spent most of his life doing the hunting…not being the hunted. He couldn't imagine all of the strife having to survive day after day, all alone. He'd always had Dean.

"Ok, well, let's get going so I can get to dying."

The trip to Wichita seemed endless. Castiel opted not to ride with him, so that left Sam alone to his thoughts. He tried to lay out every scenario he could think of that wouldn't involve his demise. Even though Castiel said his grace was sufficient, Sam didn't want to take that chance. Dean's creepy smile and black eyes made frequent appearances in his mind's eye. What would Dean do in this situation? He wondered if he was leading Dean and Crowley straight to their sister. A massive woman-hunt wasn't something you could sweep under the rug and keep quiet. The demons would soon find out where he was going, so whatever they had to do, it had to be quick.

His phone chirped, signaling he'd received a text message.

SAM, IT'S JACK. I THINK I HAVE A BEAD ON YOUR GIRL. GIVE ME A CALL WHEN YOU GET A CHANCE.

Sam practically dropped the phone in the floorboard as he tried to dial Jack's number. Finally, a lead, he thought.

"Hey Jack, it's Sam Winchester. Please tell me you have something I can use."

"Hey Sam. My condolences about your brother, man. I lost mine about twenty years ago. It still hurts."

Sam appreciated what Jack had to say, but it wasn't something he wanted to hear right now, and he didn't want it to get out that his brother was alive…and a demon.

"Thanks Jack. So whatcha got?"

"About four days ago, some convenience store on Cramer Street got robbed. The perp shot the clerk in the chest when she wouldn't hand over the cash in the register. Shot deader than dead, man. Your girl was in the back of the store doing some shopping when it happened. When the robber got the cash and left, she went to the front of the store and knelt down next to the store clerk. Now, what I'm telling you is what my buddy at the police station told me after he watched the surveillance tapes. He couldn't believe what he saw. If he only knew, right, Sam? We see stuff that'd melt his brain."

"Yeah, you're right. So what happened?" Sam was trying not to let Jack hear his impatience.

"So this chick kneels down and the camera picks up this bright flash of light when she places her hands on the clerk's chest. Seconds pass and the clerk sits up, unphased. You'd only known she got shot based on the big, bloody hole in her shirt."

Sam could feel the muscle fibers tingle in his back. It was probably time for a pitstop, but after hearing this from Jack, he didn't want to stop. He had to get there before sunrise.

"Did the camera get a good look at her?"

"No, man. She was wearing a black hoodie. My buddy said she was wearing a uniform of some sort though. A work uniform. Her shirt was burgundy, and she was wearing khaki pants. He thought it was a uniform because of the logo on the front. That was the only thing he could make out. It's the logo of some coffee shop chain in the area. There's a half a million of them here, so she probably works close to the convenience store. Even still, there's three locations nearby."

"This is a big help, Jack. I really appreciate your help."

"Can I ask, Sam, whatcha need her for? Is she an angel or something."

Sam carefully orchestrated his response. He didn't want to give away the farm or give Jack the impression she was of great importance.

"She's a friend. We've been looking for her, because she can help me with this case I'm working on ."

"Well, I hope you find her, bro. She can help a lot of people with powers like that. Are you sure she's a friend though? She sounds more like something we might need to take care of."

"No, she's good, Jack. Trust me. She's no threat."

"All right, man, you let me know if you need anything else. Watch yourself, Sam. The air isn't tasting so good nowadays."

"I agree, Jack. Thanks again. I'll keep in touch," Sam hung up and tossed the cell in the seat next to him when Castiel appeared. Sam nearly wrecked the car as he flinched from Castiel's sudden presence.

"Cas, seriously, you have to stop doing that!" His heart felt like it was going to explode through his chest.

"What else would you like me to do, Sam?"

"Can't you like warn me first? You know, call me, text me, send me some kind of telepathic telegram?"

"I'm afraid it doesn't work like that, Sam."

Sam grasped the steering wheel tightly in an attempt to calm his nerves. He wrung his hands over the dry leather repeatedly.

"We found her, Cas. I heard from another hunter that she's still in Wichita and was just seen a few days ago at a convenience store healing someone in a botched robbery."

"I have an idea, Sam, on what we can do. You're not going to like it."

"Ok, hit me with it," Sam groaned.

"When we get there, we have to go straight to work. I caught wind that demons are already there. Somehow they found out we were looking for her and they're trying to beat us to the punch. I think I know which shop she works at. I spoke with an angel named Ithuriel, and he said he's seen her come in and out of that shop. He was actually present the night of the robbery and followed her when he witnessed what she did to the clerk. He never could get a good look at her face so we're still in the same boat of not knowing what she looks like. He did, however follow her back to work, which is two blocks down from the convenient store. He suspects she's probably working today."

The hope wasn't easy to suppress. Sam half smiled but then realized Castiel wasn't done with his story. The bad news was yet to come.

"This is how we're going to draw her out, Sam. I'm sorry about this, but it's the only thing I could think of on short notice. My plans were sabotaged when I found out about the demons. We need to head straight to the shop. They open in roughly forty-five minutes, so we have a perfect opportunity here to draw her out."

Castiel hesitated to speak further. Sam could tell Castiel was trying to soften the details for his benefit, but he just wanted to get it over with.

"Just spill it, Cas. What do you have to do?"

"I will have to run you over with the car in front of the coffee shop. I'm not going to lie, Sam, it may not kill you immediately but then again, it could. It won't be painless. Are you sure you want to do this?"

No, he wasn't sure. He was emphatically certain he didn't want to do this, but it was their only option. There were too many margins for error, and the thought made his stomach churn.

"No, Cas, I don't want to do this, but it seems like I don't have a choice. My brother has to be stopped, or this world will be nothing but rivers of bodies. I can't take that to the grave."

"I'll be right there if she doesn't show up. We won't have long though, Sam. The longest I can wait is four minutes, tops. After that, I have to heal you."

Sam wanted to vomit. The acidic taste of bile tickled the back of his throat. If Dean, human Dean, was sitting here, he'd be the one volunteering as martyr. He breathed in slowly, trying to swallow the nerves creeping up his throat.

"Ok, fine," Sam replied.

As they pulled onto Cramer Street in downtown Wichita, the streets were filled with people going to work, getting breakfast, or out for their morning stroll. Sam pulled off onto a side street, a block down from the coffee shop.

"Last chance to back out. I can't imagine what you're going through, but rest assured I'm here. You won't suffer long."

"Four minutes is pretty long, Cas. I pray it's not that long." He could feel hyperventilating breaths start to push against the inside of his lungs. Panic was starting to rear its ugly head.

"You'll be fine, Sam. Remember, this is going to save the world. Just try to focus on that."

Sam didn't want to talk about it anymore. He just wanted it over and done with. He flung the car door open, and Castiel scooted across the seat behind the wheel. The knot in his stomach pulsed as he turned the corner to walk down toward the coffee shop. Behind him, he heard Castiel drive off. He would miss the roar of the Impala, the way she purred when she came to life. The rev of the engine reminded him of times when Dean would get behind the wheel and just floor the gas. He'd look over at Sam and nod his head with pure ecstasy.

When he reached the front of the coffee shop, he caught a glimpse of the Impala roaring down the street right at him. He took a step forward to cross the street, and the black blur in his peripheral view struck him. He tumbled over the hood, slammed into the windshield and flew over the top of the Impala. The world spun in thousands of directions as he flew through the air before he finally face-planted on the asphalt.

The morning sun had not gotten the chance to scald the asphalt, so the warm surface cradled Sam's face. His ears were ringing, but it was moments before he started to feel the agonizing pain in his legs and back. He knew his spine was intact, but he was afraid to look down at the aftermath. Passersby screamed in horror as they crowded around him. He could feel hands upon him, muffled voices danced around his consciousness, and ironically, the smell of pastries wafted through his nasal cavities. Before he knew it, he was looking at the sky and staring back into Castiel's face. His lips were moving but he couldn't hear him. The light from the early morning sun faded in and out as Sam blinked his eyes from the pain. His body convulsed, and he sputtered blood all over himself and Castiel.

Four minutes, Sam. Four minutes.

The light was getting dimmer and dimmer, and all he wanted to do was go to sleep. Just vanish into the sunlight and let it take away all the pain. Blood pounded against his eardrums, and he managed to catch a few words Castiel said.

"Hang in there, Sam. Any minute now."

Sam thought he heard himself say "hurry," but he couldn't focus on anything but the pain. The ungodly pain. The sense of drowning as his lungs began to fill with blood. He wanted it all to stop. Maybe if he just let go, Castiel would move on and take care of it. He didn't need Sam to find his sister and stop Dean.

Between blinks, he could see the look on Castiel's face. He was worried.

"It's ok, Cas," he heard himself gargle through blood.

Castiel didn't respond. He placed his hand on Sam's face, and Sam knew it would be any minute now. Death or he'd sit right up. Castiel pressed his hand into Sam's face again. Sam couldn't see past Castiel's fingers, but he could tell Castiel was struggling.

Sam could fill icicles creep up his arms. He noticed he was shivering, and all he wanted to do was let go.

He heard Castiel whisper into his ear, "Sam…I…can't do it. I'm sorry. It's not working, and she isn't coming. I'm…I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Sam closed his eyes, and the world went black.


	4. Chapter 4

Supernatural

Family Ties – Ep4

Castiel watched helplessly as Sam took his last breath. He'd done all this research, come all this way, done this unspeakable act…and for what? To kill a dear friend at the same time as losing his grace? He placed his hand atop Sam's forehead again and strained to make his power come forth. Again, nothing happened.

"I'm sorry, Sam. I don't understand what happened," Castiel whispered.

People stood by and offered verbal advice, checked Sam's pulse, yelled for help, but all Castiel could do was just sit there. Sam's lifeless body stared back at him, bloodied and broken. Castiel felt himself bumped off balance as a young looking girl shoved him aside.

"For heaven's sake, why weren't you looking where you were going, you idiot?" the girl yelped at him.

All Castiel could do was just stare back at her in disbelief. He very well couldn't tell her why. The human race wasn't ready for this kind of revelation. The girl gawked at him with eyes caked in eyeliner. Her face was pale with bitterness and loneliness. Castiel concluded she was one of those females Dean would always refer to as "emo" or "goth." She wore a black hoodie, khaki pants, and a burgundy shirt, but Castiel thought she looked very out of place and out of her element. She shifted her stance to kneel next to Sam, and the front of her hoodie fell to the side revealing a coffee shop logo.

At once, Castiel snapped out of his stupor. He reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder.

"You can heal him, can't you?" he asked.

The girl stared back at him, dumbfounded. Without replying, she grabbed Sam's hand and held it gently in her own. She closed her eyes and hummed a sweet melody, but Castiel couldn't put his finger on the tune even though he knew what it was.

Sam's eyes popped open, and his lungs swelled with air. Onlookers shrieked and guffawed as Sam's wounds healed right before their eyes. Some even backed away, even ran. Castiel sat there in amazement. In the many times he had healed or resurrected someone, it had never been this beautiful, this serene.

"Sam? Are you ok?" Castiel said hesitantly.

The girl turned and looked at him, a rage burning behind her eyes, "You know this guy?"

Sam sat up and wiped his brow. When he stared down at it, he must've realized where he was and what had happened.

"Cas, I…I don't understand. I thought you -," Sam replied breathily.

Sam turned to the female crouched next to him that was still holding his hand, "You. You healed me?"

Castiel could see the gears turning in the girl's head. He figured she would start to put two and two together and realize that she'd been set up. She snatched her hand away from Sam and jolted up.

"Do you realize what you've done? You've exposed me!" she hissed.

As Sam tried to get up, a mob of people surrounded him and tried to get a good look at him, talk to him about what happened, how he felt. Castiel could see the girl begin to take a few steps back to try to get away unnoticed, so he took off after her while Sam was overwhelmed with onlookers.

"Wait a second. We came a long way to find you. We know who you are," he called out to her.

"Well, it's people like you that have kept me in the shadows. How dare you? Do you realize what you've done? I'll be dead soon thanks to this. So many people saw what I did, and it'll get back to them," she spat back venomously.

He grabbed her arm to restrain her, "Get back to whom? We're here to help you."

At the exact moment of his touch, she flinched. Fear replaced the look of anger on her face. Her muscles were rigid with fright as he grasped her tightly.

Her mouth slowly opened with a whisper, "You're not one of them. You're…you're different. Not evil. What are you?"

Castiel relaxed his grip on her, not seeing her as a flight risk, "I'm an angel. I promise, I'm not here to hurt you. I…we need your help."

He could feel her relax, and the fear subsided from her face. They stood on the sidewalk staring at each other with thickening silence between them. Castiel hoped she would say something instead of gawk at him. It was starting to make him feel very uncomfortable. Noticing the awkwardness, she spoke up finally.

"I didn't believe in angels, but here you stand. But why? Why do you need me?" she said.

"You see that guy standing there?" Castiel pointed to Sam, who was still trying to wade out of the crowd of bewildered spectators. "We have reason to believe he's your brother. But Sam's not what I need help with. It's your other brother who's in trouble. Your twin brother."

"My what? Oh no, no, no. I don't have any brothers. I grew up in Chicago with my parents as an only child. They would've mentioned me being adopted or having other family. I'm sorry, but you've got the wrong chick."

Castiel had anticipated this reaction. He was prepared to offer a rebuttal if it came to it. He gently placed his hand on her shoulder again, hoping it would settle her nerves and relax her paranoia.

"Your birth parents tried to protect you from those people, those…demons…you've been running from your whole life. Your parents knew you were special, so they hid you to protect you. If your adopted parents knew where you came from, I doubt they would've taken you in. The demon who came for you, came for your brother Sam instead…because, he, too, is special like you, but in a different way. I would only ask that you allow us to prove it to you. If it comes out as bunk, then you are free to keep running and hiding. We'll never contact you again and never speak of your existence. Will you at least allow us that?"

She appeared to be mulling it over in her head, but Castiel would not pressure her. They'd come too far and too long for this moment just to spook her off.

Her original personality returned, "Ok fine, whatever. But after it comes back no, I'm gone. No thanks to you."

"Excellent," he half-smiled and coaxed her to follow him. As they made their way to the front of the car, Castiel reached out and yanked Sam out of the crowd, "Come on, Sam. We're leaving."

Sam jumped in the passenger seat as Castiel and the girl climbed in on the driver's side. Castiel cranked the engine and sped off down the road, leaving the bewildered mob to suck up their exhaust fumes.

"Where are we going?" Sam asked.

"To get a DNA test. Only a third party can convince her that you're her family. Unfortunately, it's going to take two days to get the results back so we're going to have to hang low and out of sight till then," Castiel said.

Sam turned and looked at the pale girl who sat in the back. She glared at him, and all he could do was smile back.

"Hi, I'm Sam. This is Cas. That was really amazing what you did back there. Thank you. I feel like a million bucks. I never feel this good when Cas heals me," Sam playfully smacked Castiel in the arm. Castiel didn't respond. He continued to focus on the drive back down the road to the pharmacy.

"You're both idiots. You could've died. Why did you let him hit you like that?" she muttered.

"Well, it was the only thing we could think of to get you to come out of hiding. See, we've been researching your movements across the country. You can't resist helping people and we had to exploit that. I'm sorry we had to do it this way, but I really need your help. We think you can help our brother."

"And how's that?" she sneered.

"Your…gift. You can exercise demons, heal, and resurrect people. He needs all of those. It's a long story, but he's a demon now but he's not possessed. His soul has evolved into something evil because he took on the Mark of Cain."

"Mark of Cain?" she asked sarcastically.

"Like I said, long story," Sam sighed.

Castiel pulled up next to the drug store and jumped out. He left Sam to tell his sister the backstory while he went inside to buy the DNA test. He walked up and down aisles grazing over products marketed to men, women, and the general public. After thumbing through multiple brands, he picked one out and headed to the counter to pay for it. The guy behind the counter gave him an odd look.

"Let me guess, your baby momma trying to hit you up with child support, huh?" he smirked.

Perplexed, Castiel responded, "Baby momma? I'm sorry, I don't have a child that is a mother."

The clerk mouthed a long "ok" and took Castiel's money and returned with change.

"I hope it works out in your favor, Brotha," the clerk laughed.

"Um, me too," Castiel replied quizzically. He still wasn't used to human communication after all of these years in his vessel.

As he got back in the car, Sam was finishing up with the story nutshell.

"And that's why we need your help. Only you can do this," Sam sighed.

"So why doesn't your angel boyfriend here do it? I mean, come on, he's an angel. That's what they do," she said.

"Well, Castiel here is pretty much out of grace, uh, heavenly power. The other angels would just assume kill Dean and be done with him because of how powerful he is. He's the enemy now."

She was quiet for a few moments as they sat there in the car. Castiel opened the DNA box and read the instructions for what they needed to do.

"The test says you need to swab the inside of your mouth with this applicator thing, and send it off to this laboratory. You can call in and get the results two days later. Since we don't want you thinking we tampered with it, you're fully responsible for doing this. We'll just sit and wait…for two days," Castiel said.

"Well, I'm not hanging with two strangers in the meantime. You two could be rapists or something. I'm not an idiot, and especially not an idiot that mows down their friend in the middle of the street," she chortled.

Castiel turned and looked at her, nonchalantly, "I can assure you that Sam and I are not rapists, idiots maybe, but not rapists. We can meet back in two days at the place of your choosing if that would make you feel better."

"But what if she runs, Cas? We'll never find her again," Sam interjected.

"Sam, we can't make her help us. She has to do this of her own free will, and we have to give her a reason to trust us. For all she knows, we're just like the people hunting her down," Castiel said.

"I'm sitting right here, ya know," she barked. "Don't answer for me. You don't know me. Look, if this thing comes back negative or whatever, which we all know it won't, then you won't ever see me again. But, if it comes back as a match, I'll need to think about it. You might be my brother and all, but blood doesn't always make you family."

Sam laughed heartily.

"What's so funny?" she asked.

"My brother Dean used to say that. He said you had to earn it."

"Well, he sounds like he's the smart one in the family," she retorted.

Castiel was getting tired of the small chat. They needed to hurry because the longer Dean had the First Blade, the more devastation he could reap. He handed the box to her.

"Where do you want to meet?" Sam asked.

"Let's meet at the coffee shop. Hopefully, I still have a job if I choose to go back there. Who knows, I might have to vanish after today no matter what the test says."

Castiel didn't want to beg, and he didn't want Sam to get his hopes up either.

"Fine. We'll meet you at the coffee shop in two days. Please reconsider if it comes back positive. I know it will, but you have to see it. Sam, give her a swab of your mouth and let's get going."

She opened the box and handed him one of the applicator swabs. He rang it along the inside of his mouth and stuck it back in the casing. After placing it back in the box, she got out of the car and threw the lid of her hoodie over her face.

She leaned back in the car before shutting the door and said, "Oh, and my name's Hannah."


	5. Chapter 5

Supernatural

"Family Ties"

Chapter 5

The next two days were the longest two days of Hannah's life. She'd likened it to someone taking a pregnancy test and sweating over two lines or one. The inner battle of whether to be happy or angry plagued her. The thirty five years she'd spent on this earth was a lie…maybe. Never having anyone to go to or a shoulder to cry on was something that always ate at her. Now, all of a sudden, a younger brother shows up with an angel wanting her to save her twin brother who was a demon. Her life was something straight out of a Stephen King book. She figured any minute, she would wake up and it would have all been a nightmare.

Miraculously she'd managed to save her job after taking off with Castiel and Sam after the accident. She coughed a story about having to go to the police station and give a statement about what happened. She counted her lucky stars that her boss was decent human being and sympathetic to two idiots deciding to run each other over. Every time the coffee shop doorbell jingled, she expected the angel or Sam to walk in, but not before another demon. She knew she was playing games with her life by staying there, but she'd grown attached to this town while trying to make a life. The results of the test would decide her fate.

Even if the test came out positive, she wasn't entirely sure she'd go with Sam and his angel. For all she knew, they would just use her and spit her out…or maybe worse. She wasn't some kind of tool or weapon to be discarded when it served someone else's purpose. Then again, they could possibly be her flesh and blood. The only surviving family she had. Family. That word alone was a foreign concept. Her parents were honor roll parents either. Dad was abusive cop and mom was a pill-pushing drunk. She overdosed one night and left Hannah to fend for herself with her aggressive father. It had been a bumpy ride, but she made it out alive at seventeen. She ditched her father the first chance she got.

She would never forget the day she discovered her gift. Living on her, she had to find odd jobs to support herself and working in a horse stable for four months taught her more about life than the past twenty years. She'd befriended a horse named Kaylynn. The horse's mane was a beautiful blonde ocean of hair across a stout, muscular frame encased in spots. Every time it came around for feeding, the horse would prick her ears up and whinny for Hannah. She could've sworn the horse smiled at her at one point. Kaylynn was a show horse so she didn't get much out of the stable to run around and graze, and when she did, Hannah had to keep a close eye on her. Little noises would spook her, and Kaylynn would rear up and run.

The stable sat on the edge of a forest that stretched for miles across the Colorado countryside. Hannah had picked up the job as she hitchhiked across the US from Chicago. She didn't know a thing about horses but she faked it and learned as fast as she could. One day when Kaylynn was out grazing in her guarded area, a bear had approached the fence and startled her. In typical fashion, she reared up in fright, but reared so high and so hard, she fell over backwards, slamming into the earth below her. She tried desperately to get up but broke her leg in the process. Hannah would never forget the scream that emanated from the horse's mouth. If her heart had been made of glass, it would've shattered.

Hannah immediately ran to her side in deep fright. Not only would this horse have to be put down, Hannah would also be fired. Tears streamed down Hannah's face as she tried to comfort the animal. A song she'd heard as a child came to mind, and she began to hum it while she rubbed the horse's neck.

"I'm so sorry, Kaylynn. This is all of my fault," she cried.

As she continued to hum and the stroked the downed animal, the horse's broken leg began to twitch and with a lunge, the horse shot to its feet and began to trot around excitedly. Hannah stared in amazement. She'd seen the bone protruding thru the skin, and a small pool of blood caked up the dirt at her feet. But the leg was in perfect order, and so was Kaylynn's spirit. The bear was a forgotten memory, as it had taken off when the horse reared up in terror.

Hannah bent over at the horse's knee and ran her hands up and down the mended leg and felt all the strong tendons and solid bone beneath the skin.

"Kaylynn, what did you do?" she patted her on the side. "You gotta show me that trick again someday. I thought you and I were finished."

The horse nuzzled Hannah's face and trotted toward the gate leading to the stable. All Hannah could do was stare in awe. Had she done that? She'd ask herself that again three weeks later when she witnessed a stray dog get hit by a passing car. The poor thing had been mangled by the front grill of the vehicle, and Hannah would never forget the wheezing breaths it took before it died. She rubbed and petted it while singing that old song by some band her mother used to play until the sun rose. It was the only fond memory Hannah had of her mother.

The broken skin, shattered bones, and marrow began to piece itself back together right in front of her. After moments of witnessing a miracle, the dog jumped up, licked her shaking hand and ran off into the woods. She sat in the road for a very long time and absorbed the scene that had just unfolded in front of her. It was her. She healed the dog just like she'd healed the horse. Not only healed, but resurrected. She was certain that dog died. Not a shadow of a doubt, she'd seen the life leave that dog's eyes. Yet, he was off gallivanting in the woods probably chasing squirrels at that point. She went on to healing much more than animals.

The day on which she exorcised her first demon still woke her up in cold sweats. Hannah was not a religious person at all. She didn't claim any faith or any god for that matter. What kind of god would give her these powers and no instructions or warning about what to do with them? They were both a curse and a blessing. The guy she had been dating took her out hiking one day so they could catch a sunset over the mountains. She'd actually been expecting him to propose to her since he was acting funny and secretive. The laugh that came from his mouth never ceased to give her chills. He'd grabbed her from behind and slung her to the ground. When she managed to get her vision back from her head being slammed into the ground, she was staring back into blackness. Only two black eye-sockets stared back at her. His smile stretched across his face like a snake about to strike its prey.

A cold hand wrapped around her throat and began to choke her. The stench from his breath wafted through her nostrils in between gasping heaves of breath. It smelled like death, like four day old fish and moldy bread.

"We've been searching for you for a very long time. Azazel will be very happy, that is, if I don't take you all for myself," he bent over and licked the side of her face.

In his moment of infatuation, his hand had loosened up enough for her to speak. With every bit of oxygen left in her brain, she did the only thing that came to mind.

"I rebuke you, demon," she screamed and plunged her fingers into his eyes. The demon, also known as Tom, hissed with pain and writhed under hand. He yelled in agony and a black cloud of air burst from his mouth into the trees above them. His body fell limp on top of her and rolled off. She coughed and gagged for air as her lungs were starving. She didn't know where that sentence had come from. No religious texts, no exorcist movies, no attending mass. It had come to her in a moment of pure desperation and she'd sent a demon straight to hell. Tom hadn't been the last either.

"Hannah? Hannah? Table six needs a refill and you have a new customer at the bar."

Hannah awoke from her daydream and wondered how long she'd been standing there thinking about where her life had brought her.

"Uh, yeah. Ok," Hannah placed a hand to her forehead to wipe the sweat from her brow.

"You ok, Hannah? You look like hell," Nikki, her fellow barista coworker, said.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired," Hannah sighed as she refilled her coffee pot. She walked over to table 6 and refilled the woman's empty coffee cup. As she placed the pot behind the counter, she walked up to the man sitting at the end of the bar to take his order.

"Hi there. What can I get you?"

His smile charmed her before he even spoke a word. He was a shorter, portly man with brown hair and a toothpick jumping at the corner of his mouth.

"Do you happen to have a pint of Glencraig?" he asked with a very strong East London accent.

"Afraid not, Sir," she smiled. "The strongest thing we have here is the endless amount of espresso, if that's your cup of tea."

He smiled again, and Hannah was fascinated how the toothpick never fell from his mouth.

"I'll have a cup of tea then," he said again and leaned over to get a close look at her nametag. "Earl Grey, if you have any…Hannah."

"One cup of Earl Grey coming up," she smiled back. "Say, you're not from around here. Where are you from?"

"Lawrence, Kansas," he grinned.

She knew he was putting her on, but his charm didn't allow her to be irritated long. She poured a steaming cup of hot water into a Styrofoam container and dropped a tea bag in it.

"Cream and sugar?" she asked him.

"Be still my heart," he cooed.

Hannah almost wanted to roll her eyes. Laying it on a bit thick, pal? She poured a small amount of milk into a saucer and placed a few sugar packets on the counter next to his cup.

"Ah, the American charm of serving tea. I sure do miss the homeland," he mumbled under his breath, but Hannah had heard every word perfectly.

"Can I get you anything else….?" Hannah paused at the end, hinting she wanted to know his name.

"Alastair. Alastair from Lawrence, Kansas," he stuck out his hand to shake hers.

She couldn't help but laugh, and she laughed harder than she wanted to. It felt good to laugh. She hadn't laughed in a very long time.

"Hannah. Hannah from Billings, Montana," she reached to oblige his handshake, but before she could connect, the sound of shattering glass made her jump. She'd knocked her coffee pot into the floor, and hot coffee sprayed all over her black shoes.

"Son of a -," she cut herself off. Her boss was in ear's shot, and she didn't want to get in trouble for cursing in front of the customers again. She quickly grabbed a nearby towel and mopped up the brown liquid oozing across the floor. When she stood up to acknowledge Alastair again, his seat was empty. He'd disappeared.

"That jerk. He stiffed me," Hannah chunked the emptied cup into the trash can behind the counter. This day wasn't shaping up to be promising, and the DNA test results were due today as well. She pulled her cell phone out to see if she'd missed a phone call, but no missed-call icon displayed on the screen.

As if the phone had read her mind, it chirped to life with a local area code and number.

"Hello?" she asked, rattled.

"Is this Hannah?" a male voice on the other end asked.

"It is," she replied.

"This is Dr. Langford from Nelson Laboratories. We have your test results. The sample you provided for yourself and the sample you provided from the donor are a 99% match. You are indeed related to this person. It would be safe to assume they are a sibling or parent."

Hannah couldn't speak. She'd been so positive they were lying, and yet, here were the facts.

"Miss Yeager? Are you there?" Dr. Langford asked.

She'd gone by so many different names in the past few years, she almost never recognized the fake ones when she was addressed.

"Uh, yes, sorry. Thank you, Dr. Langford. I will let them know," she hung up the phone before the doctor could respond.

Nikki tapped her on the shoulder, "What are you still doing here? Your shift ended five minutes ago?"

Hannah jumped which made Nikki jump. She laughed off her unease, "I'm sorry. Just on edge. That last customer stiffed me so you'll have to take it out of my paycheck."

She didn't really care as this was her last day of work at the coffee shop. She was about to start a new path in life, and unfortunately it couldn't be here. She untied her apron and threw it over her shoulder. Nikki counted out Hannah's tips for the day, and Hannah thanked her and waved goodbye. She'd miss Nikki as Hannah had grown very fond of her in the past few months.

Hannah figured Sam and Castiel weren't coming as they'd not shown up yet. As she walked out the coffee shop door, she fumbled the money in her hand and it flew all over the sidewalk. She quickly bent down and scooped up the dancing dollars as they jumped up and down along the sidewalk. She huffed loudly with anger as she snatched each one up. As she reached for the last one, she caught a glimpse of the guy who stiffed her, Alastair.

"Hey! You! You owe me for a cup of tea, you jerk!"

He paid her no attention as he kept walking further down the street. She wasn't going to be ignored and walked over, so she took off running towards him. The black blur drove past in the opposite direction, and Hannah caught a glimpse of Sam's dumbfounded face staring out the window at her as she raced by.

As she approached Alastair, she dropped her hand on his shoulder to get his attention.

"Excuse me! I was talking to -," Hannah was about to curse him when a lightning bolt of pain ran straight up her arm. She snatched it back as he turned around, all smiles.

The screech of car tires wailed behind her as Sam flipped the car in reverse. It came to a rolling stop next to her, and Castiel jumped out of the back seat.

Hannah could feel her eyes starting to dry out from being open so wide for so long. Her arm was seizing as the stinging heat burned her skin. There was only type of instance where she'd felt this…when she'd come in contact with a demon.

She felt Castiel's arm wrap around her, and the next thing she knew, she was sitting in the back of the Impala.

"Sam, go! It's Crowley." Castiel spat.


	6. Chapter 6

Supernatural

"Family Ties" – Ep 6

The Impala's tires screamed to life as Sam peeled off. Hannah cradled her arm close to her chest, and Castiel kept his eye on Crowley as they sped away. Sam caught a glimpse of Crowley as they drove off, and a smile was stretched across his evil face.

"Why's he just standing there? I want to wipe that grin off of his face," Sam grunted as he stared at the rear view mirror.

"My arm is killing me," Hannah hissed through her teeth. She looked back over her shoulder and glared at Crowley, "Who is that?"

"Alastair Crowley," a voice in front of her replied.

Everybody's head shot toward the passenger seat where Dean sat, grinning ear to ear. Sam gasped in shock and swung the car wheel to the left out of reflex.

"Dean!" Sam yelped.

"Hi again, Sam," Dean smiled. He turned toward the back of the Impala, "Cas…who's your friend here? She smells delicious." He stared at Hannah intently, and his grin vanished, "I know you."

Sam slammed on the breaks, and the car came to a screeching halt. Castiel wrapped his arm around Hannah, and they vanished in a _poof_. Sam swung his arm at Dean, hoping to catch him in the throat. With ease, Dean blocked it and sucker punched Sam. His head snapped back, and pain radiated down his face. Sam was sure his nose was broken, as he felt blood gush from his nostrils. Before he could retaliate, Dean was gone. Why hadn't he killed him? He wondered if his brother was still in that demon body somewhere.

He turned, holding his nose, and discovered Castiel and Hannah weren't in the car.

"Cas! Hannah!" His head darted from side to side trying to find them, but no one responded. People in the street walked up to the car and peered in nosily. Some asked if he was okay when they saw the blood gushing from his nose.

Ignoring them, he put the car in drive and sped off. He'd not anticipated this happening, so he and Castiel didn't plan out a meeting place if they got separated. With Dean this close, he doubted Castiel would respond to prayers. For a split second, he also wondered if Castiel would ever return with Hannah. Sam feared he would take her back to Heaven to do his bidding, but he quickly shook the notion out of his head. Castiel wasn't that guy anymore…he hoped anyway.

Sam drove till he got out of town and stopped at a hotel on the outskirts. After checking in, he plopped face down on one of the beds and tried to think of where Castiel might have taken her. His eyelids weighed heavy as he ran through location after location in his head. Before he could get past five locations, he succumbed to the bed's embrace and fell into a deep slumber.

He felt like he'd been asleep for fifteen minutes when he was awakened by someone shaking him.

"Sam. Sam, get up," the voice spoke.

Sam sat up, feeling drugged, and wiped the sleep from his eyes. As his vision cleared, he saw what looked like Castiel staring blankly at him.

"Cas?" Sam asked warily.

"Sam. She's gone. I can't find her," Castiel sighed.

"Gone? What do you mean gone? She was just with you, Cas."

Castiel sat down on the bed next to Sam and stared at the floor. Sam stood up and stretched, trying desperately to wake up.

"What happened?" Sam coaxed.

"We traveled a few streets over so we could keep an eye on you, but seconds after we left the Impala, Dean appeared right beside me. He just grabbed her and took her…right out of my hands. He just took her," Castiel said.

Worry and defeat were etched across Castiel's face as he told his story. Sam wasn't sure whether he needed to console or cajole his friend. His only living family members were off gallivanting around doing only god knows what. He wanted to be mad at Castiel, but he was angrier with himself. Hannah had done a great job at protecting herself, and they screwed it up. Now, she was out there with the two worst entities in the world with nothing to protect her.

"Where do you think they've taken her? Think we should risk summoning Crowley?" Sam asked.

"I have no idea, Sam. I'm at a loss. Demon Dean is a new deal. He doesn't think like a human anymore, so there's no telling what he would do. Summoning Crowley is a bad idea."

Sam could feel the panic starting to bubble up from his stomach. Not having someone to lean on for advice or knowledge became increasingly frustrating. He appreciated Castiel, but he was no Bobby…or Garth for that matter. In moments like this, he missed Kevin Tran. Kevin could access stuff Sam had no clue where to find. If anything, he just missed him in general. The guilt of having killed him clung to his conscience. Dean tried to take the blame for it, but in the end, it was still by his hand. He'd never forgive himself.

Now, there was Hannah. She'd been the first immediate family member he'd seen since his father. He wasn't sure if he could get used to the idea of having a sister, much less letting her tag along. Sister or not, she was a complete stranger. He'd known her for just two days…and now she was gone. What Dean and Crowley could and would do to her was something he didn't want to think about. Sam didn't see his brother anymore when he looked into those empty black eyes.

"Cas, what are we going to do? I don't even know where to start," Sam said.

"I can ask around again. Get the angels here to keep an eye and ear out for anything suspicious. You don't think Dean will hurt her, do you?" Castiel asked.

"I don't know anymore. That's not Dean."

Hannah opened her eyes to find herself in darkness. Something was covering her eyes so she couldn't see. When she went to move the blindfold, she discovered her hands were tied behind her. Then she felt the pain. The smell of burnt flesh tickled her nose, and she guessed it must have come from the spot where Dean touched her arm when he grabbed her. She took in a deep breath as she winced from the fiery throb. A voice came from the shadows.

"Hello…Hannah," it said.

She immediately recognized the British accent from the coffee shop.

"You must be Crowley," she said, hissing with anger.

Footsteps approached her from the right. They slowly slid across the floor, like someone intentionally taking their time. She pulled tighter against her bindings, but they were still has tight as before.

"Yes, yes. It's your fun and loving King of Hell. I hope you're comfortable. Are you not?" he said. Hannah could hear him grin as he spoke. She wanted to rip his face off.

"Let me go. I don't have anything you need," Hannah declared.

"Oh, but you do," another voice echoed through room. She sensed it to her left, and it wasn't rocket science to figure out that it was Dean. He was at her ear the next second. "Oh, yes, you do."

Chills ran up Hannah's spine as she could feel Dean hovering next to her. Brother or not, he creeped her out. He was a different level of evil than anything she'd ever encountered. She felt his hand grip her arm in the same place he touched it last, and the pain radiated through her body. Her screams shrilled across the walls, and she tried her best to pull herself away from him. His grasp only tightened more.

"Listen up, Kitten. You'll do what we ask…or he'll start grabbing other places. Got it?" Crowley snarled.

Dean grabbed her neck with his other hand. The agony choked her, and gasps of air were the only things able to escape from her lips. Sounds of her burning flesh sizzled in her ear, and she feared anymore pain would make her pass out.

Hannah tried to avoid a situation like this for her entire life, yet here she was with no idea how to get out of it. Aware that her powers were useful in the enemy's hands, she would never allow them to make her use them. She'd rather die first, but she hoped no more of the burning pain would precede it. She cursed and spat blindly, hoping to nail anyone in close range.

"Kiss my –," she tried to yell but a hand smacked her across the face. The force of it almost knocked her over onto the floor. Her tongue danced at the corner of her mouth and sensed the metallic taste of blood. Her lip was cut, and her neck and arm were burnt. How much more would she have to endure, and would she be able to endure it.

Dean's voice whispered into her ear, "I like the smell and taste of burnt flesh. It reminds me of home."

She felt his slimy tongue slide across her cheek, and she held in every urge to vomit. His breath wreaked of death and destruction.

"Forget it," she grunted.

The blindfold was ripped from her head, and a light overhead pierced her vision. She blinked a few times to get a better view, but she was spun around in her chair before she was able to get her bearings. Across from her, sat a man tied up like her, except he was in far worse condition than her. His flesh has fileted open and his clothes were soaked in blood. Hannah could see his chest rise and fall, but his eyes were not open. A grimace flashed across his face as Dean slapped his hand on the man's shoulder and squeezed.

"Hannah, meet Rahmiel. Rahmiel, meet Hannah. See, Hannah, Rahmiel has a problem that you can help him with. He's…stuck. Trapped, in fact. He can't go home, but only you can help him with that," Dean said.

Hannah only glared at Dean. She wasn't going to give him anything to use.

"Go ahead, Hannah. Help him," Dean coaxed. He waved his hand from her to Rahmiel. "Go on. Don't make him suffer."

She had no clue what Dean wanted, but she knew she couldn't give it to him. Crowley walked up and knelt next to her.

"Look, Kitten. Two things are gonna happen here, and you get to pick. We're nice host that way. You send him home, or Dean…well, Dean plays with his toy some more," Crowley said.

"I'm not doing crap for you," she snapped.

"Well, I guess she made her decision, Dean. Play away," Crowley waved Dean on.

Dean reached inside his black leather jacket and pulled out what looked like a jawbone with a handle fashioned at the end. Blood stained teeth lined the side of the weapon, and Hannah only guessed whose blood it belonged to. Dean took the blade and slowly ran it across Rahmiel's chest. The man screamed out in agony as his flesh parted to reveal muscle, fat, and sinew.

Hannah could taste a hint of bile rising in the back of her throat. She turned her head so she wouldn't have to watch, but Crowley grabbed her skull and swung it forward.

"Oh no, Deary. You chose his fate, so you have to watch. Besides, I think Dean likes an audience."

Rahmiel's screams labored more as Dean dug in. She couldn't drown him out, and the cackles of insanity were plucking at her brain stem. Anymore of this, and she'd simply go mad. Pity brought her to tears, and she'd had enough.

"Stop," she mumbled. Dean sliced through the man's neck but not hard enough to sever an artery.

"Stop it! I'll do it!" she relented.

"That's a good girl," Crowley patted her on the back.

He stepped in front of her, reached down, and pulled her chair to within breathing distance of Rahmiel. Hannah could smell the wet blood as it oozed from his wounds. She guessed he'd been sitting here for a while, as blood wasn't the only thing she smelled. The stench of body odor and human waste overcame her senses, and she gagged. Dean reached behind her and cut one hand free.

She flexed her hand, desperate to retrieve the feeling in her fingers. Now that she had her hand free, she was one step closer to banishing these idiots if she could get a hold of one. Alas, Crowley had moved too far away while Dean took his place behind Rahmiel.

"All right, what do want me to do?" she asked.

"Cast him out," Dean barked.

Hannah placed her numb hand on the bloodied knee of Rahmiel, but she was surprised when she touched him. No burning sensation…no pain, but she could feel a slight vibration. It was soothing, and she'd felt that one time before…when Castiel touched her.

"He's not a demon?" she asked.

"Nope. Full-blooded angel we got here," Dean answered.

"You're kidding right? I can't cast out an angel," she smirked.

"But we think you can," Crowley cooed from the other side of the room.

Dean jerked back the neck of Rahmiel and proceeded to slice another cut into his flesh. Again, Rahmiel bellowed in anguish.

"Ok, ok!" she screamed. "I'll do it." She wasn't sure how she would, but nonetheless she'd try. If anything, it would at least silence the guy. His screams were tearing her nerves apart.

She leaned over as far as she could and touched Rahmiel's knee again. Closing her eyes, because she could not look at him, she whispered her chant.

"I rebuke you, angel."

Rahmiel's body seized, and a flood of light shot forth from his mouth and eyes. It nearly blinded her, and she threw her free hand up to block the light. In seconds, all was quiet and his body limped to the floor.

"Well, well," Crowley grinned with victory. He took a few steps toward her, and Hannah reached out to grab him. She felt the blow from her right, but she couldn't hang on to consciousness. Her face met the cold concrete of the floor as Dean's punch knocked her to the ground.

She succumbed to the cold surface, and darkness took her once again.


	7. Chapter 7

Supernatural

"Family Ties"

Episode 7

Sam peeked over at Castiel and wondered what the angel was thinking. He sat quietly in the passenger seat as Sam drove the Impala through the torrential downpour. The rain was not making it easy to think and drive. Sam was spending too much time trying not to run off the road into a ditch. Castiel suggested they go back to town to see if they could catch a tail on one of them or possibly ask around. Deep down, Sam knew they were long gone, but he didn't want to give up hope.

"We're going to have to kill him, aren't we, Cas?" Sam asked.

"Who? Dean? I think so. He's much stronger and viler than I would've imagined. I'm sorry, but if I get the chance, I will have to kill him."

"I know. Sadly, I have to do the same. That's not my brother anymore. At this point, he's probably worse than Crowley."

Sam expected Castiel to agree, but the angel went back to his silence. The rain let up and the town could be seen on the horizon. Sam didn't know where to start other than the coffee house but even that was a long shot.

"What's going on in that noggin of yours, Cas?"

"I can't help but wonder why they didn't kill her on the spot. It only makes me think they wanted to keep her. Not sure why they would need a weapon against themselves." Castiel suddenly trailed off into another thought. "What if…what if they needed her for something else?'

"Such as?" Sam asked.

"I was thinking maybe Hannah can cast out more than just demons. Maybe she can cast out angels as well."

"You're joking, right? Cas, what are the odds of someone like her existing with that kind of capability? Have you ever known someone who could do both?"

They reached the first block of the town, and the storm was moving away from them. The windshield wipers scraped across the glass, and Sam flicked off the switch.

"No, I haven't, but you've seen stranger things, Sam. Why start speculating now?"

Castiel had a good point. Sam saw the coffee shop and pulled over when they reached the store front.

"So how do you want to do this? I'm at a loss. If you think she can cast out angels, then that's gotta be why Crowley and Dean want her. The next question is, where would they start? I can only guess it would be a place where lots of vessels congregate," Sam said.

"I would have to go back to heaven and ask around. They're still rounding up people after Metatron's mess. Maybe they would use her as bait to lure some in. I will have to warn heaven."

And just like that, Castiel was gone in a breath, and an empty passenger seat stared back at Sam. He got out and made his way into the coffee shop. He asked some of her coworkers to have her contact him at his number on the fake FBI cards.

He didn't know what he was doing. This was all pointless. He knew Crowley and Dean would never show their faces here for a second time. They got what they wanted and left. He threw the Impala door open and plopped down in the seat and slammed his fist down on the steering wheel. He clenched it and wrung his hands over it. He was getting close to admitting this might be the end after all. Suddenly, an idea popped into his head. How could he have forgotten?

He reached under the seat and pulled out his father's notebook. He rifled through page after page looking for the spell Dean used to find Cain. As he was skimming over the page, Castiel knocked on the window of the driver's door.

"I thought of something, Sam. A location spell."

Sam chuckled loudly. "Cas, are you able to read minds now? That's exactly what I was looking for in my dad's journal. Dean told me that he and Crowley used this location spell to find the First Blade. One problem is, I definitely don't have any Essence of Kraken. Do you?"

Castiel shook his head. "Sorry, no. I'm sure Crowley would have loads of it, though." He leaned against the car and stared back at Sam.

"Back to square one again, Cas. I just –"

"Wait a second, Sam. I remembered something. When I was a human, I befriended a fallen angel that still had some grace. He once showed me how to perform a location spell using the blood of the person you're looking for. It's fairly easy," Castiel interrupted.

"There's another problem. We don't have Dean's blood, or Hannah's…or Crowley's for that matter."

"I think I have an idea for that. We summon Dean, and we get it from him."

Sam looked at Castiel with utter confusion. "Cas, did you hit your head recently? No way Dean would just hand over his blood to us."

"I know that, so we'll have to take it from him."

"You're asking for a whole new level of pain with that suggestion. He'll eat us for breakfast, Cas."

"Look, we don't have to beat him to a pulp to get it. We'll summon him, and I'll stab him with my angel blade. The spell only requires a drop of blood for it to work."

"A drop of blood may cost us our lives, Cas. You have to be sure you can get it."

Castiel gave a weak smile, but Sam knew neither one of them could promise something like that. They'd just have to hope for the best.

They gathered the simple ingredients of water, fish oil, and gunpowder. Castiel suggested they go back to the house where they saw Dean a few days ago. There, they painted a Devil's Trap to ensnare him, where they would then take his blood.

"Cas, you feel good about this, but I don't. There's too much margin for error. Dean's too smart for this."

"Sam, if you can think of a better plan, I'd love to hear it.

Of course Sam had no other plan, so he sat down in a chair outside of the Devil's Trap.

"I'm going to stand out of sight so you can distract him for me. At the right moment, I'll stab him to get the blood. Once I know we have some, we'll get out of here. My only hope is that he doesn't follow us. I don't have enough grace to transport us a long distance. I think maybe a hundred yards." We'll drive to some place out of the way and perform the spell there when we know Dean's not trailing us."

Sam wanted to fight this but knew he had nothing to refute it with. It really was their only option. He prayed his older brother was still in there.

"Ok, let's get this over with," Sam said. He leaned over and performed the summoning spell. The seconds that followed proved to be the hardest seconds he'd ever waited.

Moments passed and Dean didn't appear. Sam grew restless, and his anxiety was building with every passing second.

"I don't think he's coming, Cas," Sam whispered.

Out of the corner, Castiel whispered back, "He has, too. Be patient."

Sam didn't want to be patient. He wanted out of here. He wasn't stupid to think he could handle Dean if things got out of control. Dean was more powerful than anything they'd ever faced. With that last thought, Dean appeared in the room.

"I knew you'd eventually reach out, Sammy. So, how do you want to do this?" Dean said. He paced a few steps back and forth, as if in mocking fashion.

"I called you to try to talk you out of this, Dean. This is madness what you're doing. Let Hannah go and we'll all go back to the bunker to figure this out. I have to believe you're not stuck this way."

Dean grinned from ear to ear. A small chuckled escaped between his teeth. Clearly, he was amused by Sam's speech. Sam's unease rapidly grew as Dean inched closer and closer to him. Nervous, he stood up.

"What? Do I make you nervous, Sammy?" Dean reached inside his coat and slowly pulled out the First Blade. "Is this what you wanted? Or was it me?"

Dean lunged at Sam, but Sam held his ground knowing the Devil's Trap would hold him. When Dean's foot crossed the circle, Sam knew he was in for a world of hurt. Dean was on him fast, and because Sam wasn't expecting Dean to be immune to the trap, he stumbled backwards and tripped over his own feet. His body fell hard on the ground, and Dean pounced on him. Dean raised the First Blade, but Sam threw his arms up to soften the blow.

Sam saw a bright, silver blade pierce Dean's left shoulder, and it almost went into his own. Castiel had jumped out of the corner and jammed the blade into Dean when they fell. The blow caught Dean off guard, and he dropped his own blade. Sam took that opportunity to break loose of Dean's grip. He got up to grab the First Blade, because he knew Dean was worthless without it. Seeing Sam go for the blade, Dean quickly pulled the angel blade through his shoulder and made an attempt to stab Sam with it as Sam reached for the First Blade.

Sam danced out the way to avoid being jabbed but missed his chance to grab the First Blade as Dean kicked it out the way simultaneously. Castiel wrapped his hands around the angel blade and pulled it out of Dean's hand. He jumped over Dean and clapped his hand on Sam's shoulder where they vanished from the house. Sam felt grass under his feet, and all he could think to do was run. Dean would be on them in seconds if he saw a glimpse of them. They headed for a batch of trees at the edge of the yard, and ducked out of sight behind some wild shrubbery.

Castiel sat next to Sam as they waited for Dean to follow, but he never came. He pulled out a plastic bag and dropped the blood stained angel blade inside.

"Do you think he's gone?" Sam panted. His adrenaline was pumping, and he couldn't catch his breath.

"I think so. I'm sorry it got that far, Sam. I had no idea the Devil's Trap wouldn't work on him."

"At least we got his blood. Let's get somewhere quickly to get this thing brewing. One thing, though, Cas. What are we going to do once we find him?"

Sam felt kind of stupid for not thinking that far ahead. He'd been so preoccupied with finding them, that he never considered what to do afterwards.

"I think only Hannah can help with that. I'm convinced she's the only one who can fix this problem. We just have to get to her first."

Sam wasn't sure what Castiel meant, but he trusted his friend. They'd just have to wing it as they went. They jogged a short distance to the Impala and drove to a nearby motel on the outskirts of town. Castiel grabbed a cheap area map from the motel lobby, as it was the last needed item of the spell.

He spread the map out over the floor of their room, and Sam stood by as Castiel mixed the ingredients together. With all the ingredients in a bowl, he used the angel blade to stir them up. When Castiel felt it appropriately mixed, he dumped the contents out onto the map. The liquid mixture slished and sloshed around on the map and then pooled over the top of an area called Copper Canyon in Arizona.

"You have to be kidding me? He's in Copper Canyon? How are we supposed to find him in a huge canyon? Are you sure that spell works?" Sam asked.

"Yes, I'm positive. It won't be as hard as you think, Sam. There aren't many places to hide in a canyon. Outposts, cabins, ranger stations."

"Maybe, but what about caves, Cas? Copper Canyon is huge. Dad took Dean and I there one year to hunt a rock monster. It took us forever because we had to look in so many caves."

Sam could tell Castiel was starting to get irritated based on the huffing and sighing in his responses. He shared that frustration. Sam wasn't looking forward to combing through the mountains again. Then it hit him. A vague memory appeared at the back of his mind of the time where Dean had gotten separated from him and their Dad while at Copper Canyon. They found him stuffed away in a cave ogling over Indian drawings the Tarahumara Indians had drawn years ago. In fact, Sam remembered exactly where the cave was, because they'd followed a construction route right to it. A local organization was in the process of turning it into a miniature museum. Sam figured since that had been almost twenty years ago, it would be finished by now.

He quickly pulled out his laptop and did a quick search for the museum, and he'd been right. They'd indeed finished it, but now it was abandoned after funding fell through to keep it open.

"I think I know where Dean is. He has to be there. It's too much of a coincidence if he's not." He pointed to the museum on the screen.

"All right, let's get going then. We have a long drive ahead of us."


End file.
